Fight
by KDMOSP
Summary: *A different perspective of Breath- you do not need to read Breath to understand this* It's hard to breathe and you are cold, you cough and gasp more as you suddenly feel the need to vomit. You cannot move or turn over and blood comes coughing from your mouth.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is a side story to Breath; it is the same premise except from JJ's perspective. You do not need to read Breath to understand this. Please Review!**

Your head is pounding, you have no idea what brought it on, but your head is pounding. You feel nauseas and swallow quickly to prevent yourself from vomiting. The bumpy movement of the car is not helping.

"JJ, are you alright?" Reid asks you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You nod at him, "I'll be fine." You tell him and force a smile. It's just a headache, a bad one at that, but nothing you can't live through. You have seen worse, gone through much worse- this is a cake walk.

"You don't look fine," Reid pushes and you roll your eyes because you know you are in for it. "You are pale.."

"A migraine, Reid." You give in before you even give him a chance to get started. "I have a migraine."

"Oh." He briefly pauses, not understanding that any sort of noise, including talking, only worseness your headache. "Did you know that migraines."

"Reid." You smile at him and put your hand on his. "Not now."

He nods again and looks down at his phone; you are grateful for the brief moment of peace. You know that any minute, Morgan will pull the SUV up to the old abandoned hotel and it won't matter if you are in pain or not- you have a job to do. And you will do it.

And then.. then there is something else. You have a feeling of dread brewing in your stomach. You can't really explain it and you don't know where it is coming from, it's just strangely present.

You see the hotel and you take a deep breath before reaching into your vest; you don't have to look to know it is there. It has been there for every case, a small, framed photo of Will and Henry. It stays close to your heart- for if you never make it back..

No, you shake your head, you cannot think like that. You will make it back and hopefully tonight, you can be there to kiss Henry goodnight. You miss your little guy, and cannot wait for him to jump into your arms when he sees you.

The mere thought of Henry is enough to bring a smile to your face; he is your reason for everything. Including why you are risking your life today. To apprehend a sadistic killer who is hell bent on continuing his crime spree.

You received tip that has lead you straight to the abandoned hotel, and SWAT has agreed to go with you. And as Morgan pulls into the parking lot, you see Dallas SWAT has already arrived.

It is go time.

Everyone meets up and goes over the plan, it's simple and straightforward; nothing out of the ordinary. You, Hotch, Reid, Kate, Rossi and Morgan are all assigned a specific area to search, and together with SWAT, the entire hotel will be crawling with cops.

"Agent Jareau?" You turn around and see a SWAT officer, his hand held out to yours. "Officer Jacobs, ma'am, pleased to meet you." He smiles and shakes your hand. His voice sounds vaguely familiar to you, and his hands. You quickly shake it off- how can someone's hands be familiar to you? But as he lets go, the sense of dread strengthens in your stomach.

You don't have time to think on it, and are lead into the hotel by Hotch. Everyone splits up, goes to their assigned locations; you and Jacobs have been directed to search the pool area.

Jacobs enters first, his gun at the ready as you follow him in. It is dark, and you can hardly see but are able to make out a few objects.

This area, if you were the man on the run, would be the place to hide. There are multiple corners to hide around, the water slide provides ultimate cover, and the pool itself is drained of water.

Your mic is crackling, but it is hard to understand who is speaking, you think it is Hotch. You decide against speaking back to him, the last thing you want to do is give up your location.

Your UNSUB is here, you know it- you feel it. And you are very close to him; and you are ready to end this.

You are focused on finding him, and are ready to rip the ear piece from your ear; there is too much chatter.

"JJ!" It comes through loud and clear, that is Hotch. And his voice is almost worried. Almost.

"Hotch, I'm here." You whisper as you constantly scan the room for any threat.

"JJ- get.. now." His voice breaks up again, but he is trying to tell you something; you can barely hear him. But you do understand exactly what he was trying to warn you of- he wanted you out of that building.

"Jacobs!" You call to him, "We need to get out, now!" He nods and covers your back as you head out.

Your mic comes to life again, and it's Hotch. "JJ- is Jacobs with you?"

You furrow your brow. "Yes, he's right.."

And from nowhere, your back is lit on fire. You collapse to the ground as the pain begins to radiate down your body. You feel the warmth flowing down your body and gasp for breath. It hurts, everything hurts.

"Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer.." You know immediately it's Jacobs as he grabs the front of your vest and slams you down hard onto the concrete; whatever is stuck in your back is shoved in even further and you cry out in pain.

In your ear, you hear Hotch; he knows something is wrong. "What?" You cough and gasp, and gasp out the only thing that you can think of. "Hotch."

"JJ, we are coming!"

It's hard to breathe and you are cold, you cough and gasp more as you suddenly feel the need to vomit. You cannot move or turn over and blood comes coughing from your mouth. A lot of it. You desperately want to turn your head, but Jacobs has a firm grip on either side of your cheeks, not allowing you to turn and expel the blood that is trapped in your mouth. You feel as if you are drowning. The metallic taste is coming up faster than you can expel it.

"Agent Jareau, nobody will find you in time." Jacobs is grinning down at you and you feel his hands running down your body. "You have a four inch knife stuck in your back. I could pull it but I would just use it to slit your damn throat."

You glare at him, "Jacobs.." You gasp, wanting to say so much more, but you cannot. There is no energy and you feel your eyes growing heavy.

He grins and runs his hand through your hair and when you look again, he has a gun in his hand. "Jareau." He hisses and lifts his boot. If you had the breath, you would have screamed in pain as he crushes your arm underneath is massive frame. When you meet his eyes again, he is looking you straight in the eye. "Say goodbye." You have no time to react as you feel the impact of the bullet shred its way through your skull, and the white hot pain erupt in your head.


	2. Fear

**AN: Please let me know how you like this story; I am really sick with the flu and tried my hardest to nail this chapter!**

The searing pain is spreading, your head feels like it is on fire, and you want to scream and shout; instinctively you want to curl into a ball and wrap your hands around your head in an effort to stop the pain. You hear commotion coming over your mic, but cannot make out the words being shouted- all you can focus on is the pain.

You want Will. You want him to hold you and tell you it's going to be okay- just like he does when you have a horrible nightmare. You want him to rock you in his arms and shush you as he kisses your forehead. Where is he? Where is your Will?

The pain is intensifying and it is making it hard to breathe. It is so bad, you cannot catch your breath; every breath magnifies the pain. You cannot focus on anything but the pain; and it is now bad enough you want to scream.

And you try- but you make no noise. You try again, nothing comes out, and you begin to realize something; a lot of somethings. You cannot see anything, it is all black; or are your eyes closed? You try and force yourself to open them, but your body is not reacting. It is not just your eyes that refuse to open, your body is refusing to move. Not a finger, not your lips, nothing. You cannot move anything.

But you can hear everything; you hear footsteps, you hear people screaming your name, shouting for you; and you try calling out. You try speaking into the mic, you try desperately responding- but nobody is hearing you. The voices are frantically looking for you; you can hear the panic in their voices.

'I'm right here' you speak, but make no noise; your body is not allowing it. 'Please, I am right here. You are so close.'

You don't know how long you have been laying here, wherever here is, but by the time you hear someone shout near you, you have grown incredibly cold. What you wouldn't do for a warm blanket, or hot coffee. Why is it so cold?

"HOTCH!" You nearly jump at the sound. Morgan, its Morgan! "Hotch!" He calls again and you feel him press his fingers to your neck. "Oh God," He mumbles.

You want to pull away from him, from his touch. "In the pool!" He says again and you guess he is talking to someone. 'Morgan, I am right here;' you try and explain. 'Morgan, stop!" You try and pull away, his touch is hurting you, and he is hurting you.

"Hotch, get the medics here now, she needs them now."

You feel the presence of another person, and then one more. People are arriving next to you, touching you everywhere and it's uncomfortable. You are in pain and just want to be left alone. Suddenly, someone is pressing their hands to your head and chest and applying pressure; you want to shout at them- they are hurting you. Why are they hurting you? They keep pushing harder and the harder you push the more you want to pull away.

"Garcia, how far out are they?" Hotch. Hotch is here, he will tell them to stop hurting you. "Garcia she doesn't have two minutes." Hotch's voice is worried, you never hear worry in his voice. Something is very, very wrong.

"She's been shot in the head and has a wound in her side. There is no exit wound."

And suddenly, it comes flying back to you; what has happened. You were shot, you were shot and stabbed.

"Garcia!" You hear Hotch shout and wonder if he knows you can hear him. "Hack their systems and get the nearest damn ambulance here now!"

"Jayje," its Morgan's voice. "We're here girl, keep fighting."

You desperately want to tell him you will, that you will be just fine, that it is just a flesh wound. That you have survived worse; that everyone on your team has survived much worse. The pain has considerably subsided and your vision is slowly coming back, you blink a few times and smile.

There, all better! You sit up and shake your head, dusting yourself off. "I might need some ice." You joke, smiling. But nobody laughs. "I'm kidding guys, I didn't mean to scare you." You say but stop when you realize that nobody is looking at you; they are focused on something else.

You turn around and stop. They are focused on you; Reid, Morgan and Hotch are rolling you onto your side and you are frozen as Hotch quickly rips off your protective vest. You cringe at the amount of blood that is pouring from your body.

Your body. For the first time you are getting a glimpse of your wounds; they are severe. Blood is everywhere; your blood. You bring your hands to your mouth as you watch your boss work to breathe oxygen into your lungs as Morgan pounds on your chest. Strangely, you feel it, you feel everything. From Morgan's strong arms breaking your ribs to Hotch pressing his lips to yours.

You don't know what to say, what to do. What are you supposed to do? You have never died before and you are sure as hell not ready to now. Not when your team is working so hard to keep you alive.

More people fill into the room and surround your body; they take no time in taking over for your medical care. You want to scream as one of them forces your mouth open and without warning you feel more pain as something is forced down your throat. You want to gag; and then more pain hits as something is shoved in your chest.

Pain is everywhere, your head, your chest, your back, and now your throat.

You place your hands on your head trying to stop the throbbing, and hardly notice as the medics place pads on your chest. You do notice when the electricity is shot through your body and you scream in pain. You have just settled yourself when another shot of pain rips through your muscle and suddenly you feel oxygen rush into your lungs.

You know instantly what has happened, you stopped breathing, and now, with the help of the defibulater, you are breathing again.

You cannot see again, but you can hear. And while you are terrified, you are starting to understand what is happening; if you are not breathing you have your out of body experience. When you are breathing, even with assistance, you are back where you belong, in your body.

And while you cannot see while you are in your body, you will take it over the alternative. At least here, you have a chance.

"We got her, its weak, but we have her, let's go." And suddenly you feel yourself being carried.

You feel the air outside hit your skin, feel the wind as it brushes your cheek, and feel the sun.

And you feel as you are loaded into a noisy something, it's bumpy and while you cannot see, you can sense the chaos.

And now, just now- it hits you. Everything hits you. You are scared, you are terrified, and you have been shot and stabbed. You are petrified and paralyzed unable to move or communicate. You need something, something to hold your hand.

And just then, you feel just that. You feel someone grab your hand and hold it. And it brings some comfort, and you recognize the voice.

It's Hotch. He is with you, he is holding your hand, and you know you don't have to be as scared anymore. But fact remains, you have been shot in the head; and people don't get a helicopter transfer unless it is very serious.

And Hotch has never held your hand; and as he rubs it and whispers to you. You know it is serious. You just wish you could squeeze back.


	3. Trapped

**AN: ENJOY!**

You feel as if your senses are on overdrive; yet, at the same time, you find it hard to feel anything. You feel everything and nothing; and that is bloody terrifying. You cannot feel your arm, but can feel when the nurse quickly wraps some kind of brace around it, stabilizing what you are sure is the broken bone.

And you are feeling as they painfully pound on your chest; as they force air into your body. It is beyond painful, it is close to excoriating pain. And you want to vomit as the pounding continues. 'STOP' You beg, 'Please, stop.'

You try and take a deep breath, try to regulate your breathing, but find that you cannot even do that; your body will not let you take a deep breath. And the pounding continues; and you are having a difficult time deciphering exactly what is going on.

On one hand, you believe that you must have ceased breathing, and that the paramedics are working to restart your heart. However, on the other hand, the last time you stopped breathing, you are watching yourself- now you are trapped in yourself.

It's terrifying, they think you are dead, and as far as you know, you could be. You have never died before, you are not sure if this is the way it is supposed to happen or not. Yet, you also figure you couldn't have died yet because you are hearing and feeling everything that you presume is still happening around you.

You feel yourself cry out in pain as another wave of electricity is shot through your body, and suddenly Askari is heading towards you, the wet sponge in his hand, ready to inflict more pain, more damage on your already decimated body. You start in shaking in fear; and just like last time, you are trapped, unable to get away.

And with your panic rising, you shout the only thing you can think of. 'Hotch!" You know he is there, you can sense his presence.

And suddenly, as quickly as the pain started, it ends. You feel a gentle hand on your forehead, brushing hair away from your eyes. You wish you could open your eyes to see who the caring touch belongs to, but understand it will not happen. Right now, you will have to depend on your other senses.

The hands are soft, gentle, feminine, and you feel yourself begin to relax under the confident touch. Somehow you know that this stranger's touch means you no harm, and when she starts speaking, you feel relaxed. "Sweetheart," her touch moves briefly away, but comes back and is wiping something from your cheek. "You are doing a fabulous job fighting with us, just keep it up."

You want to, and have every plan to, but you are growing tired, and your head is beginning to hurt again. Almost like the beginning of a migraine and now you have a funny taste in the back of your throat. As you try to ignore the taste, you hear the woman speak again.

"What's her name?" She asks.

'JJJ' you respond.

"JJ;" its Hotch's voice, it's sullen and soft. And odd.

"Well then JJ, my name is Cora, we have a bit more of a ride until we get to the trauma center, let's try and keep it boring, what do you say?"

You smile at that, you love her calm demeanor, her voice. You try and shrug your shoulders, you agree to try and keep it boring. But you are exhausted and want to sleep- you want to sleep and make your headache disappear.

"Her gun is still on her," You hear Cora speak, "would you mind?"

Your gun, you forgot about your gun! And you wonder how nobody noticed it before.

"Will I hurt her?" You smile at Hotch's concern, and you want to laugh at this. You want to, but suddenly, a blinding pain erupts back into your head; and somewhere in the background you hear alarms going off- hear Cora shouting, and Hotch talking.

"Mike!" Cora is shouting, but you can't focus on the words anymore- instead all you hear is noise. You don't know what is going on, but know something has gone wrong. Your body is hurting so badly, every bit of it, you can feel fire shouting through it, and only want to stop the pain. You feel tears rolling down your cheek.

Now you are scared, hot, and cold, pain, and numb, mad, confused and hurt. And you want Will. And then blissfully you feel cold liquid flowing through your veins, and relief is instant.

For a second.

And then a bright light appears in your eyes, the brightest light you have ever seen, it is blinding. You try to turn your head, try to do anything, but cannot.

And a horrifying thought hits you as you hear the words brain swelling mentioned. But it isn't what concerns you, because right now, you realize one thing.

You are trapped in your own body, fully living, while the outside world believes you are dying. And as you feel another shot of pain course through your head- you are beginning to understand one thing for certain.

You have no way of communicating with anyone, letting anyone know that you are aware. Letting anyone know that you are alive. Alive and trapped.


	4. Molly

**AN: I SEVERELY underestimated how difficult it would be to write from JJ's POV. It simply cannot be done without repeating myself over and over again. I cannot do that! Soooo, what I have done is this: the POV's will change from JJ to Molly to the UNSUB. That is my plan for now, let me know what you think!**

 **POV: MOLLY:**

You snap off your gloves and storm out of the operating room; annoyed is not the word to describe what you are feeling right now. Your damn intern did not listen to a word of your instructions and because of his arrogance, it nearly cost your patient his life. It had been a simple procedure, nothing that would have necessitate even an overnight stay; but now, well now your patient is on the way to the ICU.

"Dr. Molly?" You turn to see the young doctor, pale and shaking and your frustration melts away. You were once in his spot, he is learning, you get that. It just shouldn't come at the expense of a person's life. Thankfully, tonight, it did not.

You stop and look down, your scrubs are covered in bloody fluid, you desperately need to change. "Mr. Matthews will be just fine;" You tell the young man softly, "We all experience one, hopefully this is your one and only. Do you know what you did wrong?"

He nods, and you do not feel up to accosting him any further about it. "Okay. We will talk about it later."

"Thank you Dr. Molly." His voice sounds a bit more confident and you smile before heading back to your office.

Your office, your sanctuary. It took years of work to earn it, but last year, you were offered the chief of neurosurgery- and you took it. Along with the swanky office. It has a nice view of the city, and it sits right across from the helipad-

It also has one of the best coffee makers you have ever come across. And you head straight for it; switching on your small television as you wait for the magic liquid. As it heats, you thank your lucky stars for have the sense to grab an extra few pair of scrubs and storing them in the office.

You desperately need them.

So with a hot cup of coffee brewing, a clean pair of scrubs on, you finally sit down to catch up on your favorite sitcom. Only to discover that the local news has taken over- some sort of breaking news story.

From what you gather, someone has been shot, and you see the live shot of the paramedics loading the victim into a chopper. You really have no idea about their injures, where they were shot, where they are going. But you do recognize one of the paramedics and quickly shoot her a text.

"You're famous." You joke, hoping she will get the reference. You don't expect a response anytime soon, as you know she is working on a patient. But you are surprised when your phone pings back, signaling she has responded.

"Heading your way." The text simply says.

"Meet me downstairs." You respond, hoping to catch up with your old college friend.

There is a momentary pause, but her response has you on your feet. "Molly- this one needs you."

You don't have time to respond as your pager begins to vibrate, signaling you are needed. It is a 911 from the emergency room. Without so much as a second glance, you run out of your office and downstairs to the ER.

You are greeted instantly with silence. Everyone looks to you and you know it's not good; something about this is different. You stand with the medical team in the trauma room, waiting.

"Someone?" You finally break the silence.

Sally, the charge nurse turns to you. "FBI agent, shot in the head. Already coded twice.."

And suddenly the demeanor of the trauma room makes sense. This is not just a typical victim, this is someone who has put their life on the line- and hopefully, with your help- you can return the favor and save one more life tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Its a short filler chapter, but important because you can see a bit more about Molly. Please review.**

You pull your blonde hair back into a messy bun, taking in a deep breath as you listen to the brief report provided to you by the charge nurse. From the first few words, you already know your patient is gravely injured. Anytime someone is shot, it is dangerous, when they are shot in the head it's an entirely different ballgame. Most of the time, you cannot save them, however, it does not mean you won't try. Yet, if they have already coded twice before even arriving at the hospital, you briefly consider paging your intern to come down- this can be a learning experience for him. He nearly killed your last patient, this one is pretty much gone, he really cannot hurt her...

And you hate that you have to think like this, but it is reality. A sad one, but reality. This is a teaching hospital, and your intern desperately needs to learn, this might be the best opportunity. You were so close to paging him when the nurse added a tiny bit of pertinent information.

"Molly, she's FBI." Sally looks at you and shakes her head. "She's been shot in the head, already coded twice." You nod, you had already known that, and were pretty sure Sally had told you as soon as you had walked down. She was just saying it again. The two of you had worked together long enough that she had probably read your mind about paging the intern..

Police, SWAT, FBI, anytime an injured law enforcement officer came in, your heart broke, because normally if you were being paged it was not good news. It was defiantly not good news for this agent, that you already knew.

You hear the sound of the elevator bing and looked up to see paramedics come rushing down the hallway, pushing a gurney. Trailing right behind them was a stern but worried looking man with the letters FBI standing clear out on his vest. You knew immediately it was probably her partner. Social work would have to get a hold of him, you didn't have the time to focus on him.

Your team gets to work instantly, everyone doing their job, knowing their place, and you do yours. You focus on the injured woman in front of you.

Crap. You didn't need to even look at vitals to know she was in very bad shape. With tender fingers, your gently examine the entrance wound and start thinking of what, if any, treatment would be available to her.

"Honey," You begin softly talking to her. "My name is Dr. Elizabeth Molly, I am a neurosurgeon here at the hospital. I am not sure if you can hear me, but in case you can, I am going to take care of you." You promise. "There is a scary looking gentleman here with you, I am guessing your partner? I will keep him up to date, okay? All I need you to do is keep fighting."

As long as she keeps fighting, you will keep fighting for her.


End file.
